


find yourself

by YAMAGUWUCHI



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Lowercase, MINOR derek/stiles - Freeform, Minor Character Death, Thomas is Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:00:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29125356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YAMAGUWUCHI/pseuds/YAMAGUWUCHI
Summary: in which stiles is given a new life, and he has to find his way home.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	find yourself

thomas. his name was thomas. 

he couldn’t remember anything specific, only flashes, glimpses he couldn’t pin point the origin of. 

there were voices, blurred faces, a word, a phrase. 

“stiles.” 

“wicked is good.” 

he heard stiles a multitude of times, spoken by dozens of different voices, yelling, reassuring. they spoke like they were talking to him, talking to thomas. 

but thomas was his name. thomas was the only thing he could truly grasp on to, not the unrecognizable, half played memories. 

but the other was spoken only by one, a woman whom he saw the face of standing over him as he lay on a bed, but he couldn’t remember the rest. 

his name was thomas, and he was going to get out of this maze. 

-

“scott?” the sheriff’s voice was urgent, a twinge of fear in it, “please tell me stiles is with you.” 

scott’s eyes widened, because the last time he saw him was almost a day ago. 

“he- last night he left to meet you-“ 

“for dinner,” stilinski finished, “yeah, but when i woke up he was gone, which isn’t unusual, but he would have called or texted by now, and-“ he cut himself off, and scott could hear the emotion bubbling up his throat. 

“okay,” scott breathed, trying to relax to make, not only the sheriff but also himself, less worried. “this has happened before, yeah? so, we’ll find him. i’ll get the pack together and meet at your house, so we can get his scent.” 

“yeah, okay,” stilinski agreed. “okay, just update me.” 

“always do.” 

-

he has two sets of memories. he doesn’t know who he really is. he can’t tell anyone, not here. 

but maybe, maybe whoever stiles was had someone to talk to, multiple people. a family, a pack. 

but he couldn’t think about that, not now, because he had to get out of the maze before he could even see them, find them. 

though now he had a new bout of confidence. he had faced off plenty worse creatures than a griever, than what those in the glade called Creators. 

he would get out of here, they would, and he’d see scott again. 

he’d see derek again. 

but now he had to be thomas. he’s not stiles, not yet. 

-

derek was freaking the hell out. it had been days, and every track they had of stiles ran cold. he’d just disappeared in the middle of the night with no trace. 

he tried not to think about the worst. it wasn’t him being dead, but being tortured, stripped down to a shell, right at the brink of death that the captors wouldn’t allow him to meet. 

derek didn’t want stiles to be in pain. 

it would hurt derek if stiles was truly gone, and he’d pray every day that it was peaceful in his last moments. 

but he had to hold onto that string of hope that was always on its last few threads, always right about to be cut. 

he had to, for stiles’ sake. 

-

derek will have to call the sheriff every day and thank him endlessly for finally finding an actual lead on stiles. he didn’t know how he did it, didn’t bother to ask questions before getting in the car to head south. 

stiles was alive. it’d been almost a week, but he was alive, and they were going to bring him home. 

the thread was restitching, bringing itself back together. 

they’re lead to tall walls branded by an unfamiliar corporation, but the werewolves heard a single gunshot, yelling, and they’re out of their cars before they’ve fully stopped. 

it was odd having such small doors for such a large structure. the lock was broken in seconds, stiles’ screaming ringing in their ears. 

he was hurt, in pain, crying. 

derek wanted to bring him peace, had to get him out of here to do that. 

-

“stiles!” thomas-stiles was sobbing, couldn’t breathe, chuck’s blood tainting his skin and clothes. “stiles!” 

he was lifted up, leant against someone’s chest. the voice was familiar, but he couldn’t focus on that. chuck was dead, the carved wood clutched tightly in stiles’ hand. 

“stiles, breathe with me,” he felt the person’s chest rise, fall, and he tried to match the rhythm. but he couldn’t look away at chuck’s still open eyes, the blood, and his breath sped up again. 

the person got up, held onto his shoulder so stiles wouldn’t collapse, and knelt so the body was out of view. 

thomas didn’t know him, but stiles did. 

“c’mon, stiles,” derek spoke softly, hand cupping his face and wiping his tears. 

he heard another voice, one that was new but familiar. newt. 

“his name is thomas.” 

derek looked up towards newt, eyebrows creasing, “what?” 

“it’s the only thing we’re allowed to remember. our names.” 

“his name is stiles,” another voice cut in. scott’s voice was safe, warm, home, and all stiles needed right now was him. 

“s-scott?” his throat was already rubbed raw from screaming, crying, but he looked up, stood hastily on shaky legs and embraced the other so tightly it would have hurt if he wasn’t a werewolf. “i thought i lost you.” 

“i’m right here,” he soothed, but he sent derek seeking eyes, because despite being best friends for almost their whole lives, derek always seemed to calm stiles down quicker. 

but now stiles needed scott, and he wouldn’t be letting go until he’d have to be pried away. 

derek gave a small smile, but it was enough to be reassuring. 

newt was furious, and the other gladers held similar expressions. 

“thomas,” his voice was authoritative, “-stiles, what the hell is going on? you thought you lost him? you remembered these people and didn’t bother to tell us?” 

the anger in his voice pried stiles away from the hug on its own. he looked to newt, guilt in his eyes. 

“i have memories from two different people. i can’t remember who i am,” his voice was still shaky, but he was determined to explain himself. “i- i remember being a kid as stiles, but also as thomas. but, i didn’t remember either until the changing, newt, i promise. and i thought telling you about stiles in the maze would be too much to handle. especially- especially after the griever attack,” he took a deep, shaky breath before continuing. “and then i come here and we saw that video about the flare, and i didn’t know how long i was gone for- i thought i lost my pack.” 

the pack was staring at him with widened, confused eyes, but the gladers understood what he said. 

“maze? grievers?” derek asked. “stiles-“ 

“i’ll explain everything to you guys, i promise. just, can- can we go?” he took one final glance at chuck’s body. “come with us,” he looked to the gladers, “we’ll help find your families. we’ll help get your memories back.” 

-

“where are we?” stiles asked as they walked out the door, sun blazing and sand blowing. 

“mexico,” scott replied. 

stiles, despite the terror still held in his eyes, the memories still sifting through his mind, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “we always end up in mexico.” 

derek, who held stiles close next to him, chuckled as well, “now we’re even. you saved me, i saved you.” 

-

“you called them your pack,” it was the first words newt had spoken since leaving mexico. he was fresh out of the shower, wearing extra clothes of stiles’. 

stiles nodded, looked up at the gladers sitting around his living room, “they’re like my family.” 

they went straight to stiles’, because they thought going to a hospital would bring too much attention, both to strangers and the gladers who haven’t been in the real world in months, years. 

stiles sent the pack outside, but he knew they were listening in anyway. they’d been through stuff like this before, and they could handle some time without receiving answers. the gladers couldn’t. 

“my name is stiles stilinski,” he started, because he really didn’t know what to say. he didn’t have all the answers, didn’t know who w.c.k.d truly was, what part of hell the grievers crawled out of. he explained them briefly to chris, so he could skim through the bestiary, but he had a weird feeling argent wouldn’t find anything. 

“i don’t,” he took a deep breath, started shaking his leg unconsciously, “i remember waking up in a hospital bed, and paige was telling me i had- i was the cure. they had to have tampered with my mind, my memories, somehow, and i get the feeling i wasn’t supposed to remember who i actually am.” 

he didn’t know how much to explain, if he should go into detail of the supernatural. he, nor anyone else, knew what they were dealing with, if it was monsters or humans. 

“i don’t know what’s going on, or- or who wicked actually is. just, just trust me when i say you’ll be safe here until we find your families.” 

“thomas-“ minho sighed, “stiles. how do you know we’ll be safe? how did- how did these people even find you out in the middle of no where?” 

stiles glanced down, not sure how to answer. he was the worst at giving the “all things supernatural are actually real and not just myths” talk, and he figured that would not help things. 

“it’s a miracle they found me- found us. my dad is the sheriff, everyone outside can fight pretty damn well. no one, especially wicked, is getting through those doors. okay?” 

they nodded, and despite still furrowed brows, they somehow believed every word he said. 

“it’s getting late. it’ll be cramped, but you can crash in my room and the guest room. there’s already air mattresses and extra blankets in them,” stiles directed them towards the rooms and bid them goodnight, telling them he hopes he has more answers in the morning. 

when he walked back downstairs, the pack is settled in the living room, concern poking through every part of their bodies, down to the way they sit. 

“guess i gotta start talking, huh?” 

lydia shook her head, “not until you’re ready. we’ll be here to listen when you are.” 

though, he sat down beside derek, leaning in for warmth, and began his story of another life. 

-

the next morning, he doesn’t have all the answers, but families are found and remembered, and reunions were soon to happen. 

stiles worried for the futures of the gladers. he promised to keep in touch, and update them when those of w.c.k.d. are found and destroyed. 

now, though, he had memories to sift through, to order, to try and forget. 

he didn’t have all the answers, but he knew one thing. 

his name was stiles.

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this might’ve been confusing because i didn’t rlly go into too much detail and i didn’t know how to continue it. basically the scorch didn’t happen, but w.c.k.d. created the flare and didn’t have a cure, so they made tests and trials to try and find one. idk how stiles is brought into it, you can use your imagination on that one, but that’s just a bit of context if you were confused. i think that if the pack didn’t find the gladers when they did, the trials would’ve continued, and i feel like stiles knew that, as well, because he said “you’ll be safe here” and yada yada. 
> 
> ANYWAYS i hope you all enjoyed this :D if you did, please leave kudos and a comment, because it gives me motivation to keep on writing :D 
> 
> thank you ! :) 
> 
> also, if there were any mistakes, please point them out !!


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